The Amsterdam Marathon

 

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Click on this link below for a short video of the Amsterdam Marathon finish line

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Time is a funny thing.  It feels like I’ve been gone forever, and yet never left.  For 8 glorious days, I had the good fortune to wander around the Netherlands.  I ate many waffles, Dutch pancakes, Belgium chocolate, and poffertjes (look it up- they’re heavenly), but it was all good because I ran off every last carb during the Amsterdam Marathon.

Poffertjes with strawberries and ice cream. This is dinner.
Poffertjes with strawberries and ice cream. This is dinner.

The beauty of this course can’t be exaggerated.  The friendliness of the volunteers, fellow runners, and race organizers can’t be overemphasized.  This was a larger race with 16,000 marathoners and 18,000 half marathoners.  There was also an 8K the same day with around 3,000.  As large as it was, it felt like a small town race with all the small town feels.  In short, I loved it.  The course was flat which meant my legs weren’t beat up and I was able to walk the city for the rest of the week with little pain and discomfort.

A view of the Amsterdam Marathon course at Mile 20
A view of the Amsterdam Marathon course at Mile 20
The Amstel River. Mile 10 of the Amsterdam Marathon.
The Amstel River. Mile 10 of the Amsterdam Marathon.

 

This is good because there were many chocolate shops to visit along the way.  No time goals for this race.  I took video and pictures and soaked in the atmosphere.  Click on the link below to read about this latest running adventure.  (Fair warning- I wrote this with a jet-lag hangover, so it’s not my best work).

http://www.deseretnews.com/article/865665476/The-Amsterdam-Marathon.html

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Race Report- Top of Utah 2016

Top of Utah Marathon
Female Master’s Winner and new course record holder with 3:06

Strangely enough, this is my first race report of the year.  Usually by this time I’ve run 6 marathons, a few halfs, a relay and a random 10K here and there.  This year, nothing.  Unless you count the century bike ride that abruptly ended at mile 23.  It’s been a heckuva year.

Full disclosure, those days of running races every weekend are over for me.  The desire is no longer there.  Weekends spent tapering and recovering, packing and planning don’t sound even remotely fun anymore.  What sounds fun is a nice long run early Saturday morning starting at my doorstep and ending on my front lawn.  Long run promptly followed by lunch and lounging around the house.  Absolutely dreamy!

That said, I only signed up for three marathons.  Two local and one in Amsterdam (coming up in 4 weeks!).  My first race, Utah Valley, was canceled after Shelly and I crashed our bikes at the Little Red Riding Hood century ride.  Grade 3 AC separation and a fractured right hand kept me from toeing the start line the following week.  I was a little disappointed, but not really.  Not a fan of that race or it’s 3:30 am wake-up call.

For the next few months I focused solely on recovery with my eyes set on the Top of Utah Marathon.  The recovery went well with only a few speed bumps along the way.  I clawed my way back to what I felt was the best shape I could be in at my age (41) and given the physical challenges of the past year.  With a couple weeks until race day, I felt as ready as I could expect and was excited to see the outcome.  I had high, albeit secret, expectations.

Top of Utah Marathon
Ready or not!

I should know by now never to let my expectations get high.

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From the Archives- Boston 2012

Boston 2012
My friend Tracy and I at the Boston 2012 start. Notice the absence of any warm clothing. Ugh.

This is an article I wrote for the Deseret News the day after I ran the 2012 Boston Marathon.   It was a special day since my parents and my grandmother were all out to watch me run.  My grandmother had never seen me race before.  Sadly, my grandpa had already passed away.  I thought of him a lot and of how proud he would have been to watch me run.  It was an awful race.  80 degree start.  90 degree finish.  Factor in the heat radiating off the pavement at the end and, well, it was ugly.  It’s the only Boston Marathon where I’ve sought medical attention.  I was woozy and sick to my stomach at the end.  The medics doused me with water, forced me to eat a bag of magical potato chips and VOILA!  I was better!  Kind of.  It was a long and rough recovery.  Because it wasn’t the greatest of days, I immediately made plans to return in 2013.  I’ll post that recap later.  For now, enjoy.

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Be Careful What You Wish For

Warning: this post may contain one graphic image. It’s also very long. Settle in.

The fact that this post exists is a miracle in and of itself. I’m figuring out how to navigate typing with my dominant arm in a sling. In fact, I’m figuring out how to do everything with my dominant arm in a sling. I’m realizing how important thumbs are to overall life function and just how tricky ponytails can be with almost no range of motion in one arm. I’ve also learned my husband stinks at ponytails, too.

But all that being said, I need to say I am fine. My friend Shelly is fine. But there were some moments this weekend when we weren’t sure we would be fine. After ten years of road cycling, we finally had our big crash.

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Boston 2013

Boston 2013, Mile 26
Boston 2013, Mile 26

“… let us run with patience the race that is set before us.” Hebrews 12:1

April 2010- 114th Boston Marathon- My first Boston Marathon. I wore my name on my shirt following the advice of a friend who’d run the race many times. I felt like a rock star the entire way as people shouted out my name.

Boston 2013
My daughter Kaitlynne seeing me off as I head to the start line of my first Boston Marathon 2010.

As I reached the middle of Heartbreak Hill, I heard my name. Slowly at first, but the closer I got the the top, the louder and faster the chanting became. I looked ahead to see a large group of Boston College boys cheering my name in unison. As I reached the peak, they broke out into deafening applause as though they had conquered the hill themselves. It almost made me want to turn around and climb it all over again. Almost.

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